Mistwoven Healer

A small shimmering fragment of violet light, shrouded in a sea of black lightning and swirling power. That's all that remains of the first person I ever fell in love with. I was unconscious for Akari's funeral, with even my own team members wondering if I would be joining her in the ground. But… here I am, still alive... even though I wish that I weren't.

"Earth to Serena," Asumi calls out from the bed beside mine, "you in there, space cadet?"

Normally, I might have laughed at my new friend's joke. But right now… now all I can feel is pain and regret. I saw Akari start the battle against her uncle. If I were awake… if she didn't have to protect me, we could have won. If I helped… maybe Akari wouldn't be gone.

"Serena," Asumi calls again, a bit more strained this time. "You're not supposed to be dwelling, remember?"

Asumi, the girl I'm currently sharing a room with at the Sanctum Collective's long-term care center, is someone who, like me, was injured in a "magical accident." She isn't a sentinel, just a kind teenage girl who can't seem to get warm, no matter what she does. Both of us are too weak to do much more than leave our beds for a few minutes, and I guess our similarities were enough for the Sanctum Collective doctors to place us together. Although perhaps it's also for our combined mental health.

For whatever reason, Asumi has assigned herself the role of my therapist. Trying to use her upbeat attitude to help me with the fact that the love of my life is dead, and my teammates are out there fighting a war without me.

I turn away from the icy girl to my side, looking at the bare white wall to my left. Vaguely, I wish that this room were decorated with the same sentinel-themed get-well cards as the ones in the GDF. Those always make me smile.

"I can't today, Asumi… I'm sorry, I just… can't," I murmur weakly, still staring vacantly into the light of Akari's soul gem. Luckily, no one has even thought of trying to take it away from me, as doing so would destroy whatever's left of my sanity.

Behind me, I hear a grunt of effort as the icy girl pushes herself up into a seated position on her bed. She really shouldn't be doing that; leaving her blankets for even a few minutes is enough to have her shivering. I wonder how her condition would look if I used Celestial Restoration on her. I would have tried by now if my magic worked in the slightest. I would have tried a lot of things… particularly my ideas about combining Stygian and Tributary mana to get Akari back. Not that I will be able to try that for a long time. Or maybe ever. A few months to live and all that.

Once upon a time, Audrey told me that I would get used to waking up in hospital beds. However, when she said that, she did so with the expectation that Calan or Kaipo would be able to get me back on my feet. Now… no one knows how to treat my condition or if they can stop the spread. I have a few months left before the Stygian Mana kills me, and until then… I'll be like this. Helpless to do anything. I can't help Akari, I can't help my teammates, I can't even get out of my fucking bed for longer than a bathroom break. I-

A freezing cold hand lands on my shoulder, and I turn in bed to see the girl with snow-white hair sitting beside me. Even now, I can feel the nexus of mana swirling around her — the strange effect caused by her accident that made her as she is now. However, she's hardly the only oddity to appear around Shinara in the past few weeks. The tree growing by the docks is taller than a five-story building by now, and no one knows when or if it will stop growing.

I should be interested in these oddities. I should be going on an adventure with my team to find out what's going on and solve the problem. But now… now that's the realm of others more equipped than I. I don't think there's a single sentinel team out there that hasn't lost someone in the past few weeks, though.

"Serena," Asumi says, her icy grip still on my shoulder. "Remember what we said a few days ago? The Sanctum Collective will figure it out. They'll find out how to cure us both, and you can do your crazy magic thing to save your girlfriend. Everything will be okay, you'll see."

Finally, I roll to the side to peer up into Asumi's glacial blue eyes. Little flecks of ice are appearing and melting on her face and likely every other part of her body, too — although that's covered by the massive pink hoodie and sweatpants she wears. Even in full winter gear and covered in blankets, the poor thing can hardly do more than curl into herself for warmth. Oddly, according to the Sanctum Collective doctors, Asumi's body is fine and even healthy. The cold isn't hurting her in the slightest. If only her brain could get the hint and stop making her feel so cold and weak constantly, she'd be fine.

"Sorry, Asumi," I say, my voice rough from disuse. "It's just… hard to be hopeful right now."

My eyes flick back down to the glimmering gem on the necklace I wear. When I first woke up, Baylee and the others were so hopeful that I would figure out how to save Akari. Upon learning that my magic won't even respond, though… well, all of that hope has been slowly fading ever since. Even attempts to open my status only offer flickering menus instead of the screen I'm used to. At least Celeste is okay, even if she's been trapped within our soul gem since her projection ran out of mana. Unable to use my magic, I couldn't even fuel her physical form.

Closing my eyes, I try to grit my teeth through the grief. If I'm being honest, it's that more than anything else that's been keeping me down. That, and what I've done to my poor father. Since learning that I'm currently dying of something akin to magical cancer, Dad has been… not good. Very not good. For the first week after I woke up, he refused to leave my side, earning warnings from work. He's already made good friends with Asumi's parents and brothers, the group often coming together to check on us. But while Asumi's family is upbeat and hopeful for her recovery, my state is a lot grimmer.

Opening my eyes once more, I sit up weakly in bed and wrap my arms around Asumi. Her embrace is cold, and I can feel the shivers running up and down her body, but she seems grateful as she presses into me for warmth.

"It's going to be okay, Serena," the girl repeats, hugging me with all the meager strength she has. "You'll see."

Finally, just a hint of a smile crosses my lips. For such a cold person, Asumi has the personality of a golden retriever. She almost reminds me a bit of Claire in that way, but she's missing the dark undertones and slight mania always tinging Claire's attitude. I'm happy about that, though. Everyone on Team Picnic has been through their own personal hell once or twice. Except for Haruto, maybe? Honestly, I still don't know much about the stoic man as he's a very private person. Anyhow, I'm glad that Asumi has been spared that fate. Her main goal is to recover so she can keep helping at her father's restaurant, and I want that for her more than anything else. A life away from fighting, where she can be safe and happy.

Our moment is interrupted when the door to our shared hospital room is tugged open, although Asumi keeps leaning into me for warmth. She feels like an icepack, but I'm still incredibly happy for her presence.

With heavy steps, our doctor strides into the small room and offers us a smile. "Good morning, girls. I'm glad to see you up and moving around."

"Morning, Doctor Hoshi," Asumi and I echo in unison, looking up at the tall man with twin sets of blue eyes. Funny that both of our magics made our eyes different, impossible shades of blue. Mine are a deep, piercing sapphire that subtly flow with power if you look closely, and Asumi's look like the frozen, pale blue glaciers of the north pole, glinting like sunlight off fresh snow.

Doctor Hoshi smiles gently at our response, although his face holds just a tinge of sadness. He's a good man and has been trying incredibly hard to help us, always coming up with new ideas to try. I know that seeing us still weak and still dying, in my case, hurts him more than he shows. Despite that, his checking on us is a highlight of my day, and I'm always excited to see what long-shot idea he will attempt next to save us.

The balding man, like the non-evil counterpart of the man who hurt me so badly, squares his shoulders and moves to stand before us. "Are you girls feeling up to a bit of a field trip today?"

Asumi perks up at the idea; she's been stifled by these four walls, and truthfully, so have I. "Where are we going?" she asks happily.

This wouldn't be the first time we've been moved around. Occasionally, we would be taken to experts who would poke and prod us until they said they'd get back to us with results. Both of our conditions are brand new, and we have Sanctum Collective doctors coming from all over the world to help and research us.

Doctor Hoshi's face falls just a bit at Asumi's question, but he forcibly keeps his upbeat expression. "Down by the docks, there is a young girl who takes people to that big tree for 'healing.' Her name is Amyia, and from the sounds of things, she's mostly been helping normal folks with respiratory problems due to living so close to the smog."

Letting out a sigh, the doctor continues. "I'll be honest, girls, I'm really not sure this will accomplish anything for you. However, Amyia and her weird tree are getting results, and just being near the thing is helping people recover. I don't think this will have much different results than the efforts of your colleagues, Serena. But… It's worth a try."

"I've been going down to the docks after my shifts, and I finally managed to meet with Amyia's father. They've agreed to take you girls to the tree if you're willing to give it a shot, that is."

Asumi and I share a glance, neither of us hopeful. This is an incredibly distant possibility if we're hoping for a miracle healing, but… if the ship is already sinking… why not try everything possible to keep it afloat?

"I'm willing to try it," I say, my eyes falling to the gem resting against my skin. Maybe if this tree is a miracle worker, it can help Akari, too. I highly doubt it, but… maybe. Even that small grain of hope gives me the energy to at least try.

"Me too," Asumi agrees a moment later, and Doctor Hoshi claps his hands.

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"Sounds like a plan, then," he says with a smile. "Your fathers wanted to accompany you as well, so we'll wait for them to arrive and get going."

Dad is as quiet as a grave as he pushes me through the skyway in a wheelchair. Asumi's father chats with Doctor Hoshi, and our procession is followed by several guards led by Lucas. The GDF men and their soldiers keep the average people away, but honestly, don't draw too much attention. They are a common sight nowadays, given the city-wide Volcora attacks still ongoing.

My eyes are downcast as we move, memories of walking the skyway with Akari clouding my mind and pain from the Stygian Mana within me, wracking my body. I would cry, but instead, I just feel numb and empty. For a moment, I had the world at my fingertips. I had magic, power, and someone to spend my life with. And now… now it's all gone.

Even Celeste within me has been mostly silent, both with grief and with focus. She's been trying to use her willpower to reestablish a connection with her mother, thinking that only she would know how to fix our situation. The intrusion of Stygian Mana disrupting my magic also somehow broke our connection to Althia. Unless Celeste can strengthen it enough for basic communication, she won't be able to sense us at all. Not until the convergence, anyway.

Celeste and I agreed that I would be the one to try and look for other options to heal us while she focuses on her mother. She can't really do anything else, and since I'm the one left to feel the pain of our physical body, my willpower is weak and frayed anyway.

Sighing, I try to once again focus on my surroundings and the conversations happening around me. I've learned over the days that allowing my mind to dwell on the past will only sink me deeper into the mire of pain I've found myself in. However, that's getting harder and harder, given that my body is weakening further over time. If Doctor Hoshi can't find anything to save me… well, it won't be too much longer until I won't be able to leave my bed at all anymore. Then, the wait for the end would begin. I feel that should scare me more than it does, but… the thought of joining Akari in whatever comes after doesn't sound that bad.

Forcing myself out of that mire of despair, I tilt my head back to catch a glimpse of my father's hard face. It's hard seeing that face without its usual smile, but he hasn't been smiling much since I was hurt. Not since Calan described my ailment as a 'magical cancer.' Upon learning that he would be forced to witness the same slow, agonizing death, he saw in his wife again with his daughter… Dad broke down. Still, he's always tried to be strong for me since the incident. And even now, his features are set with determination.

"You're quiet today," I say quietly, wishing I could see him better.

Looking down, Dad flashes just a hint of that classic smile for me. Even if it's tinged with sadness and pain, seeing him happy gives me faith. "I was just remembering when you told me you made the archery team," Dad says, his voice still… broken. "I'd never seen you so happy. I just… I've been imagining how things might have been. If they'd gone another way, I mean."

I close my eyes, forcing down the tears that threaten to rise at his words. I understand what he really means by those words. He's wondering what might have happened if Celeste never came to me or if I hadn't accepted her offer to become a sentinel. I would have been happy and healthy. My biggest worry would be the archery tournament that I missed while unconscious. Stars… I miss Mr. Yamamoto and the team.

"I-I… see," I manage, although my voice is weak.

We fall silent for a moment as we navigate away from the tram station and towards the elevator that could take us down to the docks. I've never been over to that part of the city before, never having had reason to go.

"I was reading about this tree," Dad says after a moment as if knowing I need a change of subject. "It's supposed to be able to heal anything, even impossible wounds. People from all over the city are starting to visit it."

I nod, although his words still don't inspire hope within me. People say the same things about sentinels, after all. They talk like we're these mystical heroes, always fighting to save the day and protect the city. I suppose they're somewhat right, but they never seem to see that we're just regular people, too. That we can get hurt… that we can die. Sentinels aren't fairytale heroes. We're just normal people with more power than anyone person should have. And sometimes… we lose.

"Do you think it has a chance of working?" Dad asks after I don't answer. By now, we're approaching the large industrial elevator that workers use to get down to the docks.

I don't think it will work, but I don't say that. "It could have a chance," I say, although the doubt permeates my voice. "Maybe this tree heals through a different method than sentinels."

"I see," Dad says, disappointment echoing through his tone. "Well, let's stay hopeful. If we lose first in our minds, then we will absolutely lose in real life."

"Sure," I murmur, although even I am aware of how dead my voice sounds. Honestly, I think that is what broke my dad more than anything else. For the most part… I just don't want to try. Without Akari, what point is there in getting better? I know well that I shouldn't dwell on something like this, that I shouldn't let the negative thoughts live rent-free in my head. However, the problem with that kind of advice is that I want to keep thinking about Akari. How perfect our date was, how it felt to hold her hand, how the press of her lips against mine made my heart flutter. If letting go of the pain means letting go of those good memories, I'll never be able to do it.

As always, my eyes find that faint glimmer of life force still remaining in Akari's soul gem. So weak, so small. In the face of its fragility, my desperate hopes of finding a way to return Akari to what she once was seem laughable. Thousands of blue sentinels over many years have tried to find a way to revive their dead comrades. The mere idea that I'm arrogant enough to think I might be able to do it is dumb. I'm just a crippled girl with no magic… I can't do anything. Not anymore.

I'm vaguely aware of my father and Doctor Hoshi speaking above me, and Asumi's cheerful comments about how excited she was to get out from under her heated blankets. However, I don't fully come back to myself again until I look up to find myself under a canopy of beautiful pink petals.

The Japanese cherry tree stretches high into the air, its crown blocking out the sun for several square kilometers. No cars drive on the streets on which we move. Not with the bits of growth popping up everywhere I can see — even from under the pavement. And that's not even mentioning the roots thicker than my entire body, weaving up and down in a complex network up and down the streets.

Even the air feels fresher here, as fresh as it did in Shirakaze. As close to the under-streets as we are, that fact is practically a miracle. I wonder just how much CO2 this massive tree is sucking up. And it's still growing. I wonder if it will stretch higher than the skyscrapers at some point.

That thought makes me smile. I'd like to live long enough to see a tree the size of a skyscraper and all the other wonders that the convergence will no doubt bring as we approach. Going on a date with Akari under all these beautiful petals would… Stars…

Vision blurring, I look down once more. The beauty of this place is amazing, but all the beauty in the world seems dull and lifeless without Akari here to share it with. Fuck… I'm broken… I'm… I just don't want to keep going like this. I feel like I'm locked in my body, locked in that hospital room to do nothing but stew in my own emotions — and that is a sour brew indeed.

Blinking and forcing myself to focus, I find that our group is being led through the weaving roots by a young girl. Strangely, we're never forced to stop and get the wheelchairs over any of the roots. Just by looking forward, I can see why. Roots the width of a bus are just moving out of the way as we approach the trunk as if being controlled by a sentinel with a nature affinity.

The young girl herself is equally strange, but mostly in her normalcy. She walks by a man who is clearly her father and wears a simple floral dress. She doesn't wear shoes, but everything she might have stepped on is swept away by tiny finger-length roots that dart in and out of the ground. They should be making a mess of the pavement like the larger roots do, but they don't. In short, she's just a normal girl, although she's clearly connected to the tree somehow. Is she controlling it? No, that doesn't seem right. It seems more like the tree is… taking care of her.

It doesn't take too much longer for us to reach the trunk, and I can see the growing sense of hope on the faces of my companions as we approach. Even my father looks around hopefully, likely imagining that something this wonderous might just have a chance to save his daughter. Certainly, others here are having similar thoughts.

There's a crowd of people around the base of the tree, many touching its trunk with relieved expressions on their faces. Others are carrying loved ones and are working their way through the crowd to place people with various injuries and sicknesses against the base of the tree. In fact, looking closer, I can see dozens of people lying against the trunk, either too injured or too sick to move. Some even look dead. Amazingly, every few seconds, one of the injured will flash with green light and stand up, looking around with wide, healthy eyes.

Stopping near the trunk of the tree, Amyia holds up her small hand, looking back at me and Asumi with an expression of deep sympathy. "They'll need to be carried from here," she says, gesturing to the utterly root-covered pavement before us. Yeah… our wheelchairs aren't making it through that.

Even with the scene before me, I find myself once more sinking into my mire of doubt and depression. Right up until the moment that I blink to find the little girl standing right in front of me.

"Florina is excited to try and help you," Amyia says, leaning forward and letting her long black hair flag in the slight breeze. She gives a soft smile and pats my leg, looking up at my father. "Just hold on a little longer, okay?"

I blink again; Florina? The tree has a name? Well, that's stupid; of course, it has a name. I'm far more curious about the fact that it can apparently want things and communicate them to Amyia.

Dad smiles down at Amyia, a grin much more familiar and less tinged with sadness than has been his usual lately. "Thank you for your help and your words," Dad says softly before looking down at me with a pained expression. "My daughter needs all the hope she can get."

Amyia nods, "Florina told me about her. She's spoken with the trees and the roots, and they speak of what she's endured. We will do everything we can."

With that, Florina moves away to speak with Asumi.

At a gesture from Doctor Hoshi, Dad bends down and sweeps an arm under my legs and behind my back. Then, he lifts me gently from my chair, cradling me against his chest.

He looks at the tree and crowd before us with so much hope that, for a moment, it ignites a glimmer of hope in me, too.

"Dad?" I whisper, my voice small and weak.

He pauses and looks down at me, his eyes wet with unshed tears. Clearly, he is mentally preparing himself for this to work… or to fail.

"What is it, sweet girl?" he asks, his face still full of amazement. It's nice having him see the wonders of what magic can do… instead of the horrors.

"If this works… if it fixes me…" Tears wet my eyes, but I force myself to meet my father's gaze. "I don't want to fight anymore. I… I'll protect myself if I have to, but…" I turn, my eyes looking at the tree — Florina — and the people she's helping. "I think I can do a lot more good here than by shooting a bow."

This only makes Dad clutch me closer. "I'm so glad you think so, baby girl. We'll talk all about that, I promise. First," he smiles a genuine grin, "let's get you healed up."

Dad handles me as if I'm made of fragile glass as he weaves through the crowd. He holds me close, and I can tell that the look of amazed wonder, hope, and joy on the faces of those we pass is rubbing off on him. The further he walks, the surer he seems that this will heal me as it has for all the others. I… am still less certain.

Still, for a moment, I grasp that glimmer of hope and hold it within myself. As Dad places me against the incredibly massive trunk of the tree, my eyes find Akari's soul gem once more. Soon, I think, tears wetting my eyes. We'll be together again soon.

Dad steps away, watching me with a fervent, desperate hope. I offer him a weak smile back before everything flashes green.

The world around me seems to freeze; the only thing moving is the green energy surrounding me. If I weren't too weak to move, I might have tried to run. Not that that would have worked, either. I don't think I could move a finger right now if I wanted to.

A gentle connection seems to spring to life in my mind like a sapling growing in fresh soil. Then, a feminine voice rings out like leaves rustling in a breeze.

[I greet you, daughter of life. Let's see what we can do for you, shall we?]